


bloom

by onbeinganangel



Series: kinkuary 2021 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (or why you do idk), F/M, HP Kinkuary 2021, I guess this is the most fully canon compliant thing I have ever written wow please be proud of me, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, this is why you don't make your werewolf husband jealous on purpose kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onbeinganangel/pseuds/onbeinganangel
Summary: The thing about Dora is that she gives as good as she gets. Remus knows she does it on purpose, the way she looks up at him with that twinkle in her eyes. She pushes all his buttons and even when he gets like this, they both come out winning.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Series: kinkuary 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137662
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit, look at me! Writing a canon pairing! What a time to be alive!  
> Kinkuary is really out here performing miracles.
> 
> But... really... did you think I was going to read "possessiveness/jealousy" as a prompt and not immediately decide it was time to bring my favourite werewolf out? _Really!?_
> 
> [Uphorie](https://uphorie.tumblr.com), thank you for reading this and screaming!!

He knows Dora doesn’t do it on purpose, and the rational part of him will happily find excuses. She’s young, she’s chatty, she’s outgoing, she’s social. All things Remus no longer is. Some he never really was, at any point in his life. No matter how many excuses the human makes for him, the wolf doesn’t care for them.

It’d started early on, way before they were married, way before the wolf had decided she was his mate and became rather obsessed with the many things it could do to her.

It had started back in Grimmauld Place, when Sirius was still alive and when Remus was still trying to be responsible and dodge Tonks’ attempts at seducing him. It’d started around Bill and Fleur. 

It had made sense for Dora to lean on them, to have friends her age, then. Remus hadn’t liked how friendly they were, though. There isn’t even any point mentioning the time Charlie came back for Bill and Fleur’s wedding — Remus had been grateful Bill had realised how Remus felt, and warned Charlie before he got too comfortable around Dora.

It wasn’t logical, and Remus wasn’t particularly fond of that part of him. In all fairness, he had gotten better at it. Well, _mostly_.

He’s been dragged to _The Niffler and Centaur_ for the Auror Department’s Christmas Do, which is a joke, really. He hears James’ voice in his head telling him about how marriage is about _compromise._

He hopes he lives longer than James and Lily did to see all that compromising through.

But he’s here. Because he loves Dora. His Dora, across the pub, in a tight black long sleeved top and a minuscule leather skirt, but still wearing her Auror boots, as if she doesn’t own any other shoes. His Dora, smiling at Sergeant Whatever and Captain Remus-Doesn’t-Remember and obviously making one of her terrible jokes that sends the whole table and half of the next one into a fit of giggles. She finds his eyes, smiles at him and winks when no one is looking.

He’s gotten better at this whole relationship thing, he thinks. He wants to make her happy, so he’s trying. It’s hard when every other Auror in this pub is fit, and muscular, and beautiful, and cool and no doubt a much better person than he is. But Dora chose _him_ , so he’s trying. He’s showing face, in his best professor robes, clean hair and freshly shaved face. He leaves the mustache because it takes the attention off the big scar on his cheek. And she likes it.

“Tonks!” Shouts a guy from Remus’ left, immediately putting himself on Remus’ radar. _Not a good move._

“Wotcher, William,” Dora says from across the room and moves quickly, hair flickering for one sole second from magenta to bright red when she walks past Remus with a smile and goes over to William.

Now, William, Remus realises quite quickly, is probably a Gryffindor, judged by the lack of self preservation and awareness. William wraps an arm around Dora’s shoulders and pulls her into a half hug. He whispers something against her ear Remus can’t quite make out and Remus’ heartbeat quickens.

Dora laughs — a full body laugh, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling beautifully — and William squeezes her harder. Remus wants _blood._

Part of him is starting to suspect Dora does this on purpose. The next three quarters of an hour go by slowly, as he watches half the pub subtly touch his wife, buy her drinks, hug her, make her laugh. He hides behind his now-warm pint of ale, and smiles at the people who do greet him with a stiff “Lupin,” and a nod. _Order members and allies._

When a tall, blonde Junior Auror still in work robes tucks a strand of Dora’s hair behind her ear and Dora smiles, he has to stop himself from growling.

In seconds, he’s by his wife’s side whispering in her ear that it’s time to go. Dora is not drunk, but she’s not fully sober either and foolishly tries to argue.

“Tonks,” he says. She doesn’t like this. She’s Tonks to _everyone else_. “We need to go now.” 

He’s very polite, considering the fact he’s approximately three seconds away from bending her over the bar stools and fucking her if anyone else dares as much as breathe around her.

“Lord, you’re tetchy, let me say goodbye.”

He grabs her wrist with enough force to make her understand, but not too much to be suspicious. “No,” he says. And fuck, it practically comes out as a growl.

Her hair goes red then. Full, bright, fiery love-heart red. She turns around to look at him and he hears it, above the noise of the pub, her heart skips a couple of beats, her breath shakes and her pupils dilate.

“I have to say goodbye, Remus,” she says.

He doesn’t let go of her wrist as she does. She hugs and kisses and waves at Merlin knows how many people, and the wolf repeats the one word in its mind like a mantra:

_Mine._

“Let’s go then,” she says, finally, and breaks into a smile like she knows exactly what she’s done.

They reach the door of the pub when Remus hears it again. “Tonks!”

Bloody William.

“Leaving so soon?” He asks, and Remus steps closer to Dora.

Dora smiles at him, cheeky as ever, and then at William. “Shame, _isn’t it?_ I’ll see you around, William.”

And Remus pulls her out of the pub, down the cobbled street and into a dark narrow close under an archway.

The thing about Dora is that she gives as good as she gets. Remus knows she does it on purpose, the way she looks up at him with that twinkle in her eyes. She pushes all his buttons and even when he gets like this, they both come out winning.

“Oh, no,” she starts, with a pout. “Did I upset you, baby?” He does not appreciate getting called _baby_ , but a combination of the pout, and the big bright eyes and the tone of her voice makes his dick twitch in his trousers. “Did I make you jealous?”

“Dora,” he warns.

“You should know I didn’t _mean_ to,” she keeps going, and he presses her small body against the wall. As she is, her natural height, the top of her head barely hits his collarbone. “Did I make the big bad wolf mad?”

He growls, then. There’s no other way to describe it. It’s deep and guttural and it surprises the both of them.

“I am _so_ sorry,” she says, elongating the so, with that fake baby voice of hers.

“You’re testing me, Dora,” he grinds into her as he says it. There’s no way she can’t feel how hard he is now.

“What if I am?” she says, a challenging look in her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

He places both forearms on the wall, bracketing her head. He can hear it, smell it, feel it — her arousal.

“Careful,” he murmurs, close to her, his own nose nuzzling hers.

She smiles, then. Bites her lip. “Is the big bad wolf going to eat me?”

His resolve breaks. _Fuck it._

“No, but he is going to _fuck_ you.”

His hands reach under her skirt and pull her pants down until she can easily step out of them if she wants. He lets one hand reach up, feeling how wet she already is. The other hand pops the button open on his trousers and fishes his hard cock out. It’s an awkward angle, against her like this, using his left hand, but soon enough he’s free and she’s bucking against his fingers and grabbing at his neck to pull him down into an open mouthed kiss.

“You’re a filthy animal, Mr. Lupin,” she says, with a smile against his lips. 

He growls, again, and pulls her up by her arse until both her legs are wrapped around him, her back supported by the red brick wall, her pants dangling off her right ankle.

“You do know half of your coworkers are in that pub? That they could all see you like this, desperate for me, if they came out and looked?”

She loses her words at this, gulps and nods her head vigorously.

He ducks his head down and licks a broad stripe up her neck, pulls her earlobe into his mouth and just as she reaches down and lines him up with her wet opening, he murmurs “I’d like them to watch. They ought to know you’re _mine_ ,” and thrusts into her.

Dora gasps and wraps both arms around his neck, one hand grabbing his hair. When her eyes open and she looks at him, his suspicions are confirmed.

“You wanted this, didn’t you? You were making me jealous on purpose.”

She gives him a toothy smile, but gives no answer other than “Fuck, _Remus_.”

He thrusts into her, gently for a while, giving her time to adjust, giving in to the pressure himself — the friction, the heat, the wetness. When she starts rocking her hips into him in the same rhythm, he picks up his pace, pressing her closer against the wall and helping her bounce on his cock with his hands on her hips. 

“Mine,” he says against her neck. “Mine.” Against her hair. “Mine.” Against her mouth. 

She grips him harder, her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and tucks her head between his chin and collarbone and pants out tiny little “ _ah_ ”s to the pace of his thrusts.

He repeats his mantra from earlier as he pounds into her, faster and faster. Out loud, this time:

_“Mine, mine, mine, mine.”_

And she calls back with a “faster, harder, _please_ , Remus.”

Only a few minutes later, she scratches the back of his neck with blunt nails and finally whispers back: _“Yours.”_

**Author's Note:**

> for a more hyperactive and extremely chatty version of me, come say hi [on tumblr](https://onbeinganangel.tumblr.com)


End file.
